Open letter to the housekeepers of Rezidence Lundborg:

You’re not seeing the person I usually am. If there’s a sign in a hotel or motel that allows me to leave my towel on the rack for another day, I’m all for it. Save the water. Save the earth.

But my European bathing skills are lacking. If I had learned as a child how to cope without shower curtains, I probably would be better at this. But, face it, I’m a failure.

Obviously, this is not a hotel with substandard bath fixtures. The whirlpool is impressive, and everything is shiny and polished. However, the shower head slips into a chrome holster device that can swivel back and forth. Leave it in that, and I’m doomed as it aims too high and shoots water beyond the tub.

Point it toward the back wall, and a river along the back of the tub flows off onto the floor.

Take it out of its holster, and I lack the second hand needed to both hold it and properly shampoo, scrub or shave my legs.

Place it on the bottom of the tub, and a geyser erupts, sending the spray well beyond the tub.

Besides, I like the feeling of constant water keeping me warm as I shower. So my latest technique is to hang the nozzle and its metal hose across my shoulder and midway down my back.

Is that the solution? This morning, I turned off the water, carefully stepped over the tub’s sides and touched the bathmat, already soaked from my roommate’s earlier attempt. No water glistening on the tiles by the toilet. No water pooling under the sink. Could this be the answer? Then I took one more step and found today’s puddle creeping towards the door.

Once again, I needed an extra towel to sop up the mess. Once again, the two of us have thoroughly soaked six or eight towels. Probably the best news for our housekeepers — once again we have pretty thoroughly washed the floors in the bathroom so they may have to launder all our towels but you won’t have to touch those floors!

Today’s post can be short and sweet.

After 45 minutes at the American Center of the U.S. Embassy in Prague, talking with its Counselor of Public Affairs and a friendly Czech journalist with a degree from Mizzou who works for them now, one question sparked a response I hadn’t expected:

“Of course everything is off the record.”

Let’s be clear — these are Kent State students writing multimedia stories or research papers as part of the “Modern Media and Democracy” course. Sure, their results will go on the Web. But their topics are designed to help them compare the two countries’ situations on issues like media trust, smoking laws, educational policy. We’re not talking security risks or top secret diplomacy.

I know, I know — what did I expect?  But all the conversation is off the record so tomorrow the students push on, spending the morning with television journalists. I’ll bet they are willing to talk and not need to have their views vetted by anyone higher up.

Sometimes bad things make the best memories, especially if the end result isn’t TOO bad.

That’s the mantra of the Kent In Prague group after Day 1 in the Czech Republic. Dealing with jet lag — no one got much sleep on the flight from Cleveland to Newark to Brussels to Prague — we greeter the Czech Republic with enthusiasm. Even three temporarily lost bags were not an issue — though I had worried earlier watching the Belgium Air baggage handler give my new suitcase a shove that sent it wheeling wildly under the plane to his waiting fellow worker on the other side.

Slightly jet-lagged but awed by their surroundings, the Kent State group poses in Old Town, Prague, in front of the Jan Hus statue. (photo by Bibiana Hakosova)

The sun was shining — maybe a bit too much in the 80-plus-degree weather — as we set off with guide and protector Bibiana Hakosova, assistant to the president of Anglo-American University.

It was an amazing stroll across Charles Bridge, full of rambling tourists and street artists. Old Town on the other side was no less amazing. The cobblestone streets, roasting ham on a spit, crowds gathering in front of the Astronomical Clock as it strikes the hour — all unique to our Ohio eyes.

The group posed in front of Jan Hus, the statue to honor this martyr to religious reform in the 1300s who became a symbol of freedom during the era of Communism.

Dinner was a lovely meal on a terrace overlooking this scene, but then we saw the clouds rolling in. And then the waiter warned us of an impending storm.

I’ll confess to being a less-than-wonderful journalist, as I clutched my iPhone camera to me and I have no photos of the ensuing half hour. (Some of our students do, though.) The gentle rain turned fierce with what weather.com said were 35-mile-an-hour winds with 60+ mph gusts! The grit from those cobblestone streets bit into our legs as we hurried through the labyrinth of streets, aiming for Charles Bridge and the route to the hotel.

Huddled under an arch between buildings as one point, as Bibiana ran ahead to check out the shortest route, we watched in horror (yes, there were screams) as a window above her banged shut and literally exploded, showering her head and bare back with glass. Then, seconds later, one did the same just to the other side of our sheltering place.

We dashed to better shelter in a nearby restaurant, hoping for taxis that weren’t to be found and patching up Bibiana’s back with the Band Aids and gauze from our less-than-professional-quality first aid kits. Another dash and we were off again, finally reaching the hotel, thoroughly wet but certain this was one of the bad things that will make good memories — as long as Bibiana’s back is OK this morning.

Giving up my iPhone habit may be the toughest part of the trip to Prague. Sure, I won’t have to give it up entirely, but I can’t be snapping a photo of every meal, checking the Words With Friends leaderboard or frequently calling up the weather forecast and current temperature. And then what about food photos? (Yes, I’m one of those.)

Because the iPhone is locked – even the old ones – getting a Czech SIM card isn’t an option, though some of the students of our group are doing that. Buying or renting a cheap Czech phone seemed like a waste. So getting a moderately priced international plan for a month was the next best thing. I will have 30 minutes of calling, 200 text messages and 300 MB of data.

As someone who is grandfathered in for unlimited data, I had no clue what I used—I hadn’t had to worry about it before.

That’s where AT&T’s little data calculator came in handy. It let me input my smartphone usage.  I’m safe on the emails with attachments – not TOO many of those. Hours of streaming music. Nada. Hours of streaming video. Likewise. Apps/games/songs downloaded. No need for that. But, oh, the Web pages visited and … social media posts with photos. Ouch. That boosted the number.

If I ration myself and only post three photos a day, I should be able to make it. At first I thought that might be tough, but, in the meat-and-potatoes cuisine of the Czech Republic, I might not have as many dinner plates to capture.

Let’s face it. I’m a little holier-than-thou when it comes to packing for travel. Blame 12 years of bicycle touring, having to stuff three weeks’ worth of clothes and everything else into one set of panniers. Sure, I could wash things, drying them on a clothesline strung next to the tent. And, sure, I sometimes had to tell myself, “These people will never see me again” as I went to a nice restaurant in my biking shoes, Lands’ End polo and matching pull-on knit skirt.

But I was good at packing, and I like to think I still am.

This trip to Prague seemed like a good reason (excuse?) to buy a new suitcase. Criteria: small, lightweight, hard-sided, not black (tired of carefully scrutinizing every bag that comes off the carousel (yes, I have bright tags, but they are often the same color as United’s OVERWEIGHT or SPECIAL HANDLING tags). With a backpack and one Vera quilted bag, could I find a small suitcase that could take it all the rest?

Everyone knew I was looking for one. I stated my needs on my Facebook timeline, and my friends came through with suggestions. Google also knew I had been surfing the luggage sites and still, four weeks after I purchased the perfect bag, Google still tries to entice me by posting ads from Samsonite, Tumi, Travelpro.

“I didn’t know you were a magician,” says Dr. Cat Goodall as she watches Candace pull out all the clothes. (photo by Kaitlynn LeBeau)

With the new dark green Tumi (last year’s color so $100 off) in hand, I used my skills and packed the suitcase – clothes for everything from at least one formal dinner to the military boot camp and temps from 50s to almost 90. I took the suitcase, carefully and neatly packed, to class and demonstrated:

• the art of choosing one basic color (black) so you can get by with shoes that match everything;
• the skill of choosing only knits and non-wrinkle-able clothes that can go in the washer and not need and iron;
• the technique of laying pants in alternate directions so the legs drape over each side of the suitcase, laying the rolled up shirts and other clothes on them and flopping the legs over the top. No wrinkles in anything;
• and ever so many more instinctive skills that allow you to fit in more than you could image.

In fact, my fellow prof, Cat Goodall, looked in awe at all I pulled out. We referred to it as the Clown Car Suitcase. Will it work that well Friday night when I pack for good and wonder if I really need shorts or a second sweater or – horrors – a fourth pair of shoes.

As I watched the KentInPrague site grow and had my students choose dates for blogging while they’re in country, I decided they shouldn’t have all the fun. So… here I’ll keep track of my own observations and reactions.

“To what?” you might ask. To two weeks in Prague, Czech Republic. Let me back up and explain. Dr. Catherine Goodall and I are starting an adventure with10 students from the Schools of Communication and Information and Journalism and Mass Communication. Each has selected a topic of interest on the general theme, “Modern Media and Democracy.” Each has been exploring this for the past three weeks of daily classes on the Kent State campus and will be prepared to do more research and interviews as they produce either a final multimedia story or a research paper.

Topics range from media coverage of the Romanies (gypsies), which sounds eerily like issues with reporting about blacks in the U.S., to trust of media in the two countries, to media campaigns about smoking. The students’ ideas are intriguing, and the possibilities are endless.

That is, if we can meet the challenge of having cell phones that keep us connected — and don’t cost a gazillion dollars, if we can all get some money exchanged to Czech crowns at a decent rate, and if we can pack for everything from a meeting with the U.S. Ambassador to a somewhat hands-on boot camp at a military university like the ones they conduct for soon-to-be-embedded journalists.

The trip runs from Aug. 3 – 18, but immersion in the process is in full swing. Tomorrow I’ll share the joys of packing when too many years of bicycle touring has turned me into a I-can-pack-less-than-you-can sort of snob. Well…I probably can.

Then there’s the burning question: Will I still keep the lovely leather journal I bought for this trip, or is this blog my only way to capture the moment? We’ll see…